Chicken Soup for the Soul: Think Possible - new release!

I've been away from here for a bit - life had gotten in the way of my writing. Or, I realize upon much-needed reflection, I allowed life to get in the way of my writing. Bad me.

I allowed challenges to get in the way - but at the same time I had to, unfortunately, 'let things go' in order to keep up with some of those all-consuming challenges. But as the dark clouds have finally started to lift - despite it being fall and rainy season upon us (hee, hee - I made a joke!) - good things ARE starting to happen once again...

My story 'Taking Aim at Excuses' is along with many other stories in the newest release 'Chicken Soup for the Soul: Think Possible.' The book is full of 101 stories about possibilities and doing (at least often what one might have thought) the unthinkable - the unimaginable - despite adversity, challenges, roadblocks or...ourselves. Sometimes life throws us life-altering challenges that are out of our control and we have to work with what we've got. Sometimes we are our own worst enemy, perspective hard to come by. Either way, no matter what the reason, doing what we can with what we've got and coming out bigger, stronger, tougher and better than what we were in the beginning is what really counts.

My story about archery that I am proud to have in this inspirational book has been published at the other side of a challenging time in my life. This story I wrote reminded me that no matter what clouds may hover, I have to keep shooting, take aim at excuses, and keep perspective. I should practice what I preach.

Now to be not so hum-drum and glum:

Something cool with this release - I participated in a 'Twitter Party' with publisher Amy Newmark and co-author, Deborah Norville of the syndicated show, Inside Edition (on which she had a segment about the book but I missed it!). Anyways, the 'party' lasted for an hour, and Amy, Deborah, other authors from the book twitter-chatted about the book. If you're on twitter go to #CSSThinkPossible to see our chat, or find me at @LisaMcManusLang

I hope you find the book a help to you and remember - anything's possible.

(Coach Bradley helping me shoot a bow for the first time - he's mentioned in my story :) )

Thank you all for reading - hope you'll come back soon!

Pearls, Nail Polish and Horoscopes: What Every Archer-girl Needs

It started with a hole-in-one, or a ‘bullseye’ as it were. Golf and archery are very different, but both dictate that putting something in the middle – in the center – is a good thing.

But at that moment, it wasn't such a good thing.

It was Sunday morning and the weather forecast was calling for high, high HOT temperatures. But days of the week and high temperatures were not my concern right then. I was about to participate in an archery tournament and my nerves were a bit...off. The tournament was distance-challenging and feelings of ‘I’m not experienced enough to tackle distances my bow isn’t strong enough to do’ had me inhaling antacids by the bottle-full. I shoot recurve bow with a draw weight of 20lbs, and since I've only been at this whole archery thing since January, I think I was allowed my over-the-top angst. I hadn’t planned on doing this particular kind of tournament for at least a year or so, but my loved ones – along with my adventurous side – talked me into it.

And I guess deep down I was a tad excited as the true archer I am painted my nails blue to match my bow (it was fluke or fate that the blue nail polish I bought on a whim about half a year ago sort of matched my bow). As I continued with my pre-archery beauty regime, I was sure not to forget my pearl earrings. I have made it my personal ‘cheeky statement’ to always wear pearls to archery.

That’s right – PEARLS.

But that day I chose to go ‘all out’ in honour of the tournament and opted to also wear a pearl pendant saved only for special occasions.

Just as I was clasping the necklace around my neck it snapped and the pearl pendant slid down and off the chain. The pearl bounced and spun and twirled around the bottom of the rounded sink faster than my hand could clamp down and stop it from its dreaded destination – the drain.

Yup, down it went.

It was fate! It was karma! It was a sign I should NOT be participating in the tournament! Serves me right for making a cheeky statement I thought as I stared at my pearl sitting in the bottom of the pipe. It was silly of me to think I, of all people, could compete in such a tournament. Who did I think I was? All the confidence-building techniques I had worked on (and wrote about) throughout this new sporty venture of mine went right down the drain as well.

I couldn’t get at the pearl without risking forcing it further down the pipe. The onsite/in-house repairman kindly offered to dismantle the pipe – just for me. “We can’t do that NOW!” I shrieked. “There’s no time! We have to GO! Oh this is DEFINITELY a sign I shouldn’t be doing this tournament! Oh what was I thinking?! What am I DOING?!” I wailed and moaned all-but renouncing the sport of archery right there in my tiny office/bathroom.

As I downed a few more antacids in angst, the onsite/in-house repairman promised he would work on the pipe after the tournament and proceeded to leave DO NOT USE signs over the sink.

With reassurances and promises of ‘it’s an easy fix’ and kind words of encouragement about my archery skills to coax me out the door - along with the promise of an Ativan-enriched smoothie on the way (well not really, but I sure could have used one right then) – we loaded up the car with our archery gear and snacks and off we went.

But all that pre-tournament excitement had made me a hungry momma, so first was a stop at the good old ‘golden arches’ for a breakfast sandwich and a DECAF coffee (and no, they don’t sell Ativan-enriched smoothies) (I asked). True, my stomach was already in nervous turmoil which for anyone else would ruin their appetite, but I’m an athlete, you see: I MUST fuel-up.

The morning news was playing on the in-restaurant TV screen and just as I was about to sip my coffee a commercial came on – for nail polish of all things. AND they showed a shade of blue even closer in colour to my bow than the shade I was wearing! What were the odds? Was it a sign? I was still rattled by the pearl-down-the-drain business, but the ultimately PERFECT shade of blue nail polish? Now THAT was a sign if I ever saw one!

So a plan was hatched to visit the neighboring drug-store for a bottle of the blue goo. As an archer I know to always go prepared; the nail polish would not only be good for touch ups on my nails, but for any scratches on my bow, as well.

As we dove into our breakfast sandwiches the onsite/in-house repairman passed me the newspaper (he, too, was in the tournament but our young offspring archer was sitting this one out). That’s a good idea, I thought. Some nice quiet pre-tournament newspaper time might do me wonders.

And then inspiration struck.

I quickly flicked through the newspaper to the horoscope page. I don’t regularly read horoscopes but on a significant day, I will.

And I choked on my coffee as I read the first line. By the time I got to the end of the horoscope, I was speechless (which is rare).

I showed the onsite/in-house repairman and he, too, was mystified.

“Well,” he started. “I guess that’s a sign, for sure!” (He isn’t as into signs, luck, superstitions or anything-that-can’t-be-explained, like I am)

So with our bellies full, my nails re-painted and my Scorpion zodiacal sun in astrological alignment (or whatever it is) off we went.

The tournament started after an equipment check and practice and as the tournament progressed, I was calmer than I had been all morning. But the various ‘signs’ – good and bad - that had started before the tournament were not to leave me yet. At about the ¾-mark of the day my BELOVED onsite/in-house repairman sheered a fletch right off my arrow with one of his, embedding the plastic little arrow-wing in my target (three of us shot on one target).

(note: an arrow has three 'fletches' or the little wing-things at the end - I was by then down to two)

I was doomed! Destroyed! Defeated! My archery career was over before it even began! Although I had tried to be prepared what with the nail polish and all, I had no back-up arrows – a mortal sin in the archery world.

“Just keep shooting,” ordered the unflappable judge Helena Myllyniemi as I panicked and wailed about my faulty arrow. “It will shoot fine,” she pacified as she gave my arrow a twirl to test for straightness.

“But what about…”

“Just shoot it.” She interrupted with an order, handed me my arrow, and sent me a penetrating stare. “It will shoot fine.”

Sabotage! I thought as I sent my onsite/in-house repairman the most deadly 'you will die'-glare of all time. I won't disclose the retaliation I planned as we walked back to the shooting line. But I was also worried - and panicking, of course. Would the arrow shoot okay? Was the tournament over for me that day?

And Helena was right (of course). The arrow shot MORE than ‘fine’. I got quite a few ‘10’s’ with that arrow before the tournament was over – a ‘10’ being the highest score you can get (aka: a bullseye, or an ‘X’). I deemed it my lucky arrow.

And after all was said and done I came home with a wicked sunburn, a feeling of pride and accomplishment that I even participated in the tournament at all, and a score of 779 out of a possible 900 on the three target distances of 35, 30, and 25 meters. I had a fabulous time and my pearl earrings and blue nails were a hit (well not really; I was the only girl in the tournament. I sure showed those guys!), and we DID eventually get the pearl out of the pipe.

The lesson learned? Even when things seem to be going down the drain, keep aiming forward. You’re bound to hit something good, eventually.

For results of the tournament, visit The Victoria Bowmen Archery Club.

Nasty Four-Letter Word

I started swearing this year - yup, I did - and it’s a nasty four-letter word.

For some people, their New Year’s resolutions involve vowing to start, stop or at least cut-back on doing something. As for me, I planned a little bit of everything, but just not saying a particular word.

I had great plans of starting – or at least trying – something new this year. But I didn’t exactly count on adding a swear word to the mixture. But what bugs me most about my over-abundant usage of the word is that it’s a word I have often written about NOT using.

Plug your ears, close your eyes, and get out the soap to rinse-out my mouth.

The word is CAN’T.

So far 2015 has been a time of trying new things; but doing so has not always come easy for me. ‘Fear of the unknown’ was one of many roadblocks I often allowed to stop me, but age has given me confidence, and various life experiences has given me perspective to be more adventurous and less restrained. ‘Who cares about what anyone thinks’ and ‘who cares if I make a fool of myself’ are phrases I now frequent. Life is short; I want to do things and be able to say ‘at least I tried.’ And if there is any hesitation or second-guessing before trying something new, I never regret trying – even if I wasn’t exactly the greatest at whatever it was.

But lately my can-do/positive attitude I try to always portray has been shaky. I wonder if it’s because I’ve been attempting so many new things all at once – however exciting, adventurous and progressive they might be. Fear and uncertainty have been trying to knock me down, and can’t has been rudely – sinfully – uttered from my mouth one too many times; too many times, in fact, that I feel as though I am bordering on being a fraud.

Since January I’ve taken up archery. For four years I sat on the sidelines watching my son perfect his skill at the high-focus sport. ‘I’m a mom; archery is HIS thing’ was always my response when someone asked me if I, too, participated in the sport. But I now know that nasty word can’t had been hovering in the background. But on a whim one day last summer I tried it – and I loved it. I got my own bow for Christmas – although I panicked about using it when I opened it Christmas morning – but through support and assistance from my son and other members of the archery club we belong to I’ve been learning. There have been various hurdles to overcome, but I’ve persevered. Trying new equipment and subsequent equipment malfunctions, strength and endurance development, and skill and technique-perfecting have all played a factor in testing my confidence.

But true to my can-do ways I participated in a tournament – just to say I did it. Gosh – I COMPETED IN A TOURNAMENT?! What’s my problem then? What am I so worried about?

But still when new equipment or techniques are presented to me, I struggle/panic/stress about something new and that four-letter word can’t comes out, only to have me beating myself up for saying the horrid word in the first place. Then ‘I can’t’ and ‘who do I think I am?’ play tag in my head and some days they win, and some days I win, but I keep going – I keep trying.

I can’t do what I don’t try.

But it’s hard. That word keeps trying to bring me down.

During all this I was presented with a writing opportunity way outside my comfort zone, knowledge or experience; I was asked to write a short science fiction story. I gulped in trepidation but then looked at it as a chance to stretch my wings and figured: What the heck? I’m used to writing slice-of-life stories, as well as contemporary fiction for kids. I’m no expert in either and honing my craft is on-going – I get that. But I have never tackled writing anything science fiction, and my knowledge/expertise/experience is limited. Well, I figured, why not give it a try? It’s all part of my ‘trying something new’ mantra for the year.

Well, I’ve struggled and struggled with the piece I’ve been working on. I’ve wrote, re-wrote, started, stopped, stalled and re-started too many times to count. Can’t has been clouding my brain, and I have nearly given up a zillion times. But I can’t do it – I can’t give up, I keep telling myself. I won’t. The thought of doing so bugs me.

That word can’t has been really getting to me.

So I’ve decided to snuff it out – completely.

Archery and writing are each about intense focus. I can focus not on what I can’t do but what I CAN do. Maybe I put too many irons in the fire and got overwhelmed – I don’t know. So I have taken a step back and have done what I’m comfortable with; first thing first was writing this. I have further decided I will write what I want, when I want, how I want; I will shoot how I want, when I want, and progressing with what equipment I want – all in my own time. I don’t HAVE to try any new archery equipment or techniques. I can strengthen what I already know, and when I’m ready, I will try something new. It won’t kill me; it’ll only make me stronger.

Recognizing this nasty word usage and writing about it here has given me the much-needed boost. Whether it will be a new piece of archery equipment or a technique, or if it’s that writing project that keeps tripping me up, focusing on what I can do and not caring about anything else will only get me farther ahead. Focus, perseverance and mental strengthening skills learned from each archery and writing can be applied to the other, only enhancing my performance, output, and over-all enjoyment. It's all in the approach.

And if and when that nasty little four-letter word creeps back into my vocabulary just when I have gotten tough and have all but exorcised it out of my life, I will take a step back, remember to focus on what I can do, and then move forward again.

I realize now that part of winning the ‘battle’ has been in educating myself; knowledge is power, and all that. I realized I had to learn WHAT about trying something new in archery or writing was scaring me, preventing me from progressing and moving forward. I have taken the time to learn about the new piece of equipment or technique before trying it; I have taken the time to learn more about writing science fiction and have learned it doesn’t have to be any one certain way. And I have to remember I’m not competing with anyone else and I’m not doing any of this to please anyone. I can do my own thing – learn archery at my own speed and write whatever story my heart desires. It doesn’t matter what I do, just as long as I do it. As long as I follow through; as long as I finish. Arrow after arrow, word after word, I WILL get there. I WILL get through and surpass what’s slowing me down, and I WILL replace that four-letter word can’t with another four-letter word.

WILL.